Shots of Firewhisky
by RooOJoy
Summary: A series of Drabbles for your reading pleasure. Pairings, genres, tropes, etc will vary with proper warnings in Authors Notes.
1. The Best Present

A/N: Written for a Drabble challenge in honor of our favorite Weasley King's birthday.

I went a bit over with the word count (500), but I want to have it published today and the chitlins are hollering for their momma.

No warnings needed.

PS, Thank you to JKR for allowing us to play in her amazing world of Harry Potter!

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 **The Best Present**  
by: RooOJoy

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Ron could smell the bacon frying from the kitchen and the baritone growl of his stomach argued with his eyes as they refused to open to the morning light. He stretched his leg to the right, only to be met with cold sheets. Rolling over, unsure of where she had disappeared to, he was met with a sight that all at once made his heart glow and painfully clench. Once a year, he would wake to a homemade card and a chocolate frog.

The cards had begun eleven years ago with neatly folded construction paper, a 'Happy Birthday Daddy' message, and then scratches of crayon in no discerning image. As the years went on, they began to resemble attempts at drawing pictures and writing words. The past few years, they began to take their own shape and today's card was immaculate. The pristine gold-flecked paper dazzled as red hearts danced over the front. He smiled happily, knowing Hermione had turned a blind eye to the 'No Magic' rule. He reached for the card and opened to see the familiar script, "Happy Birthday Daddy, Love Rosie"

There was nothing special about turning thirty-seven. If he was at all honest with himself he had been dreading this birthday for years. This was the last birthday that _his_ Rosie would be home to celebrate with him. Ron wasn't the most sensitive of beings; while he often said the wrong thing and had absolutely no tact when talking about touchy subjects, his family was by far his love and his light. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't kiss each of his children good morning and good night, and not a moment passed that he wasn't seeking out the touches of his wife.

The bedroom door swung open and two red-headed kids bounded into the room, and onto his legs, bouncing up and down as they shouted "Happy Birthday!" over and over again. His wife followed after them, a tray of his favourite foods floating in front of her. Her eyes lit up joyfully, and he watched her move towards him, a smile spread beautifully across her face.

"Alright, you two, that's enough - you'll spill the food." Hermione lowered the tray onto the bed next to him and leaned down to capture his mouth with her own. "Happy Birthday, love," she murmured against his lips.

Groans interrupted the kiss and he smiled up at her, blue eyes dancing like the waves of the Caribbean. "Gross you two! You are always doing that," Hugo whinged.

Shoving past her younger brother, Rose pressed her face to Ron's chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Happy Birthday Daddy! Did you like your card?" Ron nodded against her vice like grip and kissed her head as she continued on, hardly taking a breath. "I have another present for you too. Open it!"

Ron took the small, rectangular-shaped package from his daughter's hands. Her face was shining with excitement, and her smile one of pure joy. "Now wait one second," Rose demanded as she jumped from the bed and ran from the room.

"Ok. You can open it now," he heard her voice giddily squeak from down the hall. He carefully undid the red paper to reveal a mirror. At first, his own reflection stared back at him, but only a second later, blue eyes that matched his own came into sight. The rest of Rose's beaming face took over the mirror and her voice, quite clearly, said, "It's a two-way mirror, Daddy! Now, when I go to Hogwarts we'll be able to talk every night still."

Ron's voice was stolen from his throat, but the tears that leaked from the corners of his eyes showed that _his_ Rosie had given him the best present ever.

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 **Tell me what you think! I'll add some more drabbles to this collection!**

 **xoxo**


	2. Owl Post Date

**A/N: Combining some previous/old Drabbles to this collection. Keep in mind some of these are the first things I started with in the fandom, and I will not be editing them... Be nice! xoxo**

 **Sunday Drabble Challenge - February 7, 2015**

 **Write a one shot featuring: Victor Krum, Luna Lovegood, a snitch, a threstal, and a pineapple. 500 words max**

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 **Owl Post Date  
by: RooOJoy**

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The familiar tawny owl, tapped against the glass, holding a lavender colored letter. He opened and read,

 _My Dearest Victor,_

 _Today, we finally meet in flesh. I think you will find The Golden Snitch a perfect establishment for our meeting._

 _As always,_

 _Luna_

 _PS. Maybe we can go flying afterwards?_

...

He was never going to admit to anyone that he actually signed up for Owl Post Dating, but damn if he wasn't glad he did. He was supposed to be a famous quidditch player, but girls was never something that came easy to him. Sharing letters with Luna for weeks now, and he couldn't wait to meet her. He wondered if she would still want to write him afterwards. He suddenly felt very nervous.

...

Arriving at The Golden Snitch, he was relieved to see she picked a sports pub. He wondered if she knew this would make him more comfortable. He glanced around and visibly stiffened as a woman raised her hand and waved him over. Her hair fell to her waist and reminded him of the early rays of dawn. Her eyes shone bright, and as she smiled he swore his heart stopped.

Walking over to their table, never taking his eyes from hers, he was surprised when she suddenly took out her wand from behind her ear and cast some charm aimed behind him.

"Vhat vas..." He exclaimed as he whipped his head around staring.

Luna's voice, completely devoid of the nervous energy he was feeling answered, "Oh, I didn't mean to frighten you. You had a gaggle of Wrackspurt approaching. I simply banished them."

She smiled then, and his first reaction of complete disbelief faded. He felt a rise of anger when the waitress set down Luna's drink order of Butterbeer with a slice of pineapple sniggering, "Interesting drink choice".

...

"You mentioned flying avterwards. Vould you still like to accompany me?"

"Oh, Victor, I would like you to accompany me."

He followed her to the back of the pub, confused. When she grabbed his hand his heart pumped a bit too hard against his ribs. However, when he saw what she wanted to fly his heart stopped, and his hands turned cold. He turned to look at her. She was staring at him with grey eyes wide. Her smile was sweet, and a tad questioning.

He approached the skeletal being and rubbed his hand along its velvety black wings. He only hesitated a moment before climbing the thestral and holding his hand to help her up.

As she pressed her back against his chest, and he buried his face in her hair he had no desire to be anywhere else than in the air with this woman.


	3. Triple Twist

**A/N:** So there has been some talk of a need for a triad with Draco and Neville. Well, here you go! It's a lovely, little one shot inspired by my Puff Fanfic bestie **Missyn83**. We decided to write this with the thought of having the woman be faceless. Feel free to picture yourself sandwiched between them. ~Beta love to **ErisAceso~ **First published 4/6/2016**

 **Disclaimer:** This is SUPER smutty, rated M for language and adult sexual content! If that isn't your jam, don't read, just move on!

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 **Triple Twist**

"Draco! Over here, mate," Neville all but roared over the pounding music, waving to the blonde man that just walked around the bar.

Smiling, and lifting his hand he gave a two fingered half wave of acknowledgment and made his way through the dancing, talking, and frankly, drunken crowd.

"Neville," he said clapping the man on the back. "What's it been, fifteen years?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Hell, it sure doesn't seem that long since we worked together. Still the ever pompous arse?" Neville asked, winking at him.

"Ha, would you expect anything less?" Draco answered scanning the dance floor. "Not a bad choice Neville, but honestly how young are these people?"

"You just need to know where to look, Draco. First, take your eyes from the squealing girls with too short skirts and boobs falling from their shirts." Draco gave Neville a sidelong look and rolled his eyes.

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"Ugh, I'm so fucking bored," she said aloud. _Great, now I'm talking to myself. This evening is NOT going to go down like this,_ she thought to herself.

Grabbing the phone, scrolling through the list of numbers she smiled to herself and pushed 'Call.'

"Hey Draco. So, I don't have anything to do tonight. Want to come over, and I don't know, have some tea?" She rolled her eyes, knowing how damn lame that sounded, and listened to his response.

"Actually, I'm out with a friend at a pub. Why don't you come on down and keep us company?"

 _Well, fuck!_ she thought, looking down at her sweatpants stained with who the hell knows what and her favorite T-shirt that had seen its best day about a decade ago. She had planned just to throw on a nighty for him. Going out required bare legs. "Uh, yeah, sure. I guess that sounds like fun. Meet you guys there in about half an hour?"

"Thank goodness for being a witch," she murmured to herself. She had her hair up, her face glamoured, and legs so smooth you could spread them on toast in less than 15 minutes. Picking an outfit was a little more trying, but eventually decided on skin tight jeans and a black tank that was flowy, but showed the perfect amount of cleavage. Finally, she cast a concealment charm on her wand and stuck it her hair, walking out of her flat and to the pub.

She spotted Draco almost immediately, his blonde hair not necessarily being the most disguising of traits. _Damn, he looks SO fucking good,_ she thought as she looked him up and down, taking in the crisp line of his tailored black suit. _Oh, how a man looks good in a suit._

He noticed her then and waved her over, "Want a drink?"

"Uh, yeah sure."

"Neville, how about another round for us all?" At Neville's nod, Draco disappeared into the crowd, presumably headed toward the bar.

 _Oh, holy hell, in a handbasket! Who the fuck is this sweet eye candy?_ she wondered feeling the blush rise from her neck and raise to her hairline.

"Hey, I'm Neville," he said, practically yelling, reaching out and grabbing her shoulder to lean down to speak to her. "You must be Draco's friend?"

"Looks like we have something in common already," she shouted up at him. _Damn, he's so tall!_

"What?" Neville leaned his head down and put his ear right by her face. The smell of sandalwood practically knocked her on her arse.

"Ummm, so how long have you known Draco?"

"Oh, about fifteen years of knowing the real Draco, but I did have the _extreme_ ," the word thick with sarcasm, "pleasure of knowing Draco since we were both eleven. He stole my Remembrall."

She looked at him and laughed, and when she realized he wasn't joking, she reached over and smacked Draco, who had just returned with drinks.

"What did I do?" Draco asked wide eyed while Neville roared with laughter.

Several rounds later, she threw back the latest shot and grinned, delighted by the fruity concoction. "What the hell was _that?_ " she demanded, thinking of adding it to her repertoire.

"It's called a Triple Twist, I think?" Draco yelled back.

"C'mon, boys, I want to dance," she said grabbing each of the boy's hands and pulling them towards the dance floor.

Letting the alcohol take the lead she found herself sandwiched between these two men dancing in a way that led all eyes to them. They didn't notice, they just continued riding the wave of intoxication.

Feeling a soft, wet pressure of lips and tongue on the apex of her shoulder and neck she tilted her head back giving Neville better access as he grabbed her arse and gently squeezed. A set of lips captured hers softening the moan lifting from her lips. Draco grabbed her and deepened the kiss shoving his tongue deep in her mouth, exploring every expanse of her with his tongue. He tasted of peppermint, and smelled of parchment.

Draco left her lips, making her gasp at the departure. He met Neville's eyes and he nodded.

"Let's get out of here," Neville whispered huskily in her ear.

They walked off the dance floor into the shadows and Neville grabbed her hand as she held tight to Draco's. Without so much as a heads up, they disapparated to a room with a huge four poster bed, and blue colored duvet.

Neville waited no longer than a split second for her to get her bearings before he had her in his arms kissing her. She felt a pair of lips on her back and a gentle tongue begin to caress down her spine, while hands ran up her legs and began to reach forward undoing her jeans.

There was nothing she wanted more than for those hands to touch skin. She wanted to feel skin in her own hands. Reaching forward she pulled Neville's jacket off and thrust his shirt over his head. Suddenly, she was stripped of her jeans and lifted up inches from the ground as they were pulled from her ankles. Standing upright she found herself facing Draco, his chest bare and chiseled like nothing she'd ever seen. He grabbed her, burning kisses down her neck and lifting her shirt above her head as she felt Neville's hot hands grab her ribs. _Oh, the fucking feel of his hands,_ she thought hazy with lust and alcohol as Draco captured her mouth with his while unhooking her bra.

Soon, there was nothing between the three bodies but a thin pair of knickers. She could feel their hardness, and _Merlin did she want to feel more!_

She pushed the body before her till it fell on the bed. Draco landed on his back and she climbed up, straddling him. She felt Neville behind her holding onto her hips. Slowly, she guided Draco's hardness into her. Gasping, she felt hands reach up to her nipples. Twisting and rubbing, soft nibbles making her breath catch at each bite. When Neville prepared himself behind her she only arched her back. Feeling him slide into her was pure bliss. _Oh, holy fuck how could one ever feel so full?_

The night ended quite how it started in the club. Full of laughs and drinks...


	4. Cauldron Secrets

Rated M for language - No triggers - Thanks to JKR for letting us play with her amazing world of beautiful characters.

Prompt from FB Quills & Parchment and dedicated to the loveliest of people, thewaterfalcon.

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 **Cauldron Secrets**  
 **by RooOJoy**

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Pansy wasn't utterly useless at brewing, but she didn't have the stamina to patiently baby the girl sitting next to her. She clamped her jaw together and spread the array of ingredients over the wooden table top, whilst attempting to keep her bitchy musings to herself. It was so hard, though, to not just spew the line of curses she so desperately wanted to assault her with. When Slughorn had paired the two together the audible groan wasn't something she could suppress, and she even wanted to hex Draco for the evil smirk he graced her with at her misfortune. Self-righteous prat should feel sorry for her, not relish in her pain.

"Pansy, can you hand me the mortar and pestle? We have to grind the lacewings up," Lavender's annoying voice interrupted her thoughts.

Pansy roughly slid the stone bowl to her partner and bit her tongue, holding back the venom she wished to spit. She honestly couldn't stand the blonde bint. It's not that Pansy didn't know she was a bitch, but the fact that this girl could get the attention of the one person she had fancied for over a year was just utterly absurd. She was not jealous, but what the fuck did she have that Pansy didn't? She knew it wasn't because the snogging was better; she had seen the two by the Black Lake, and that scene was just disgustingly disturbing. She knew it didn't have anything to do with House rivalry either; she knew he loved it when she wore emerald green knickers under her too short skirt.

No, this she realized was something different all in itself - he was paying her back. This was her punishment for saying she didn't want to be his girlfriend; that she wanted to keep their relationship a secret. This was his revenge for her refusing to admit her feelings. His ears had turned red and he nearly exploded with anger shouting at her that if that is how she felt then he was done playing this game. She had shrugged and rolled her eyes at him, before straightening her tie and leaving him alone in the Room of Requirement.

Yes, now she realized what she had done. She didn't notice at the time the feelings that were brewing inside of her - feelings that were foreign to her, to begin with. She assumed she could just walk away and he would follow. She wasn't prepared for the onslaught of loneliness at not having him there holding her and enjoying the wide expanse of those indigo eyes. She wasn't ready for the fire that burned deep in her gut at watching him hold her hand walking through the corridors.

This was not going to happen like this; Pansy was just as cunning as any other snake in the dungeons and she would get what she wanted like she always did. She began stirring the potion as Lavender added the final ingredient. After the tenth round, she lifted the rod and placed carefully down, before mumbling, "Muffliato."

Lavender looked around, noticing a change, but the look on her face showed she had no idea what charm was just cast. Pansy waited until Lavender turned to her, before interjecting the question that was about to leave her lips. "Now, listen here, you cunt! He is mine and I will do anything, anything, to prove to him that I am what he wants. You will back off and avoid him, or I will tell the entire school that you let Peeves watch you get off in the shower."

Pansy had the pleasure of watching the girls face go from mildly insulted to horrified. She knew that Lavender cared deeply for her reputation, and while Lavender may hold the title of Gossip Queen, Pansy held the title of Queen Bitch. Lavender knew Pansy would make her life a living hell, and Pansy saw that acknowledgment.

The blonde straightened her shoulders. "If he is who you want then who am I to stand in your way, but you underestimate me - If you want me to walk away, then you'll need to go public or I will reveal your pretty little secret."

Pansy shivered in response, appreciating the courage this bint attempted at. Letting the emotions of pride and embarrassment wrestle with the yearning she had to be with him, she resolved that there was no time like the present. "Fine, but this little chat of ours stays here! Got it?"

"What happens around the cauldron, stays around the cauldron," Lavender said in her most irritating sing-song voice.

Pansy stood, adjusted her skirt, and walked over to the table where Ron and Draco sat. "Ronald, you will be escorting me to dinner this evening."

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Reviews feed the muse, leave one if you please! xoxoxox


	5. An Old Man's Crutch

Rated T - No triggers, just a bit of oddness. Prompt from Facebook group The Fairest of the Rare - I was given two names to create anything I could come up.

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 **An Old Man's Crutch**

 **by: RooOJoy**

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Elphias Doge was an old man, period. Nearing the age of one-hundred and eighteen he knew a thing or two about the way the world went round. The thing he knew above anything else, was that humans kept secrets - people lied.

 _Dogbreath Doge_ , he huffed to himself thinking of Rita Skeeter's book - she could go suck up on a dragon egg for all he cared. Although he had to admit, he'd rather he went to the grave like Albus before she found out his secret.

Looking into the mirror, he took a large gulp of the frothing mustard yellow concoction. He expected it to taste of rotten eggs, and while there was a hint of egg, his throat gagged in the overwhelming flavor of pepper and maybe... liver he thought.

He watched as his features morphed in front of the glass. His white hair turned a shade of blonde, tinged with pale silver. His face smoothed of wrinkles, to only show small lines around a woman's mouth where she obviously held her lips down in a frown. His body straightened from his hunched position into a long, elegant, and feminine stance.

The woman standing before the looking glass was not the most beautiful, but he stretched his limbs grateful that the pull of muscle did not leave him in pain. The ache of his bones did not burn as though on fire, and his eyesight - along with his hearing - was amplified tremendously.

This is what he kept quiet - his secret. This is what kept him alive. The need to take someone else's form, someone younger, someone unnoticed, it was an overwhelming urge that took hold of him every day.

Today, he stood in front of the mirror staring at a person he only had seen in a picture. He had taken the hair while they had volunteered for the Advanced Guard for Harry Potter a couple of years earlier - he stared at a woman by the name of Petunia Dursley.

Running his hand smoothly over his face he made his way to his chair, grabbed his tea, and drank it while reading a book - thankful to not feel the pain of age.


	6. A Christmas Drabble

A Christmas Drabble prompted by Dramione Fanfiction Forum (18+). Many thanks to Rosella Burgundy for her wonderful support and enthusiasm.

Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy

Warnings: Possibility of a toothache from the sweetness...

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"You can not be serious, Granger. You're not putting that there, are you?" Draco hissed as he walked into their shared eighth year common room.

She turned to glare at him, her hands on her hips with fists of tinsel dangling from between her clasped fingers. "And why the hell can't I, Malfoy?"

"Because that's a horrible spot for the tree. It would look much better over in the corner." Using his wand, he levitated the already half decorated tree towards the fireplace.

"Who do you think you are?" she seethed through gritted teeth.

Draco grinned to himself, enjoying the rise that was easily attainable from the bushy-haired witch. He chanced a glance at her and couldn't help the double take, the tree slowing its progress as he did so. She was wearing an oversized knitted sweater with a large golden snitch on it. It hung to her upper thighs and the sleeves were rolled up to her wrists. He thought he noticed super short shorts underneath it as she stomped her foot in agitation. His eyes ran down the rest of her body, long legs covered with knee-high snowflake socks.

"Bloody hell, when did you start taking the Weasley's hand me downs?" he asked her, his smirk growing wide.

He wouldn't dare let on exactly his thoughts of what the revealing flesh did to him. For some reason, she was comfortable in her attire, and it only made him more intrigued by her. When did he start to notice her? Of course, there was the fact that they shared a common room now, along with twenty other eighth years that had returned - something about house unity McGonagall had spewed. Maybe it was when they were partnered in potions, and once they had stopped calling each other foul names, that they realized maybe the other had some meaningful attributes.

"This is Harry's sweater, thank you very much, and what do you care?" she asked.

The tree had stopped and was suspended in midair, the fairy lights twinkling throughout the branches. He watched her, her eyes sparkling, ready for a fight. He rather enjoyed when he noticed that glint. What he didn't notice was the twitch of her wand and the tree slowly begin to move back towards the windows where she had it placed originally.

"I don't care at all, actually. Just an observation," he quipped as he moved towards her. He dared not let on that while he hadn't noticed her charm, it was quite obvious to see a lit tree move across the room. He walked the few more steps towards her, enclosing her in his personal space. The tree dropped suddenly and his lips widened even more at the thought that he had affected her enough for her to lose concentration on her spell. They had been dancing back and forth the past few weeks, and the game was just part of the fun.

"You do realize you're standing under mistletoe, right? The Nargles will infest your thoughts if you don't get from under it," he said in hushed tones, close enough that a whisper was all that was needed. Internally, he applauded himself for using Lovegood, one of her good friends, as a tool to get to her.

Her eyes widened and she looked up quickly. "Draco Malfoy, what did you do?"

Refusing to remove his eyes from her face, he took in the splattering of freckles across her nose and the way her lashes were so long that the corners of them tangled together. He only smirked slightly and shrugged his shoulders as he replied, "Only helping a pretty girl out. I'd hate for the Nargles to get you."

"There are no such things," she pouted, meeting his eyes, her golden ones swirling like melted butterscotch. He watched as her gaze flicked back and forth between his, her thoughts almost coming alive on her face - curiosity but also hesitant. Her own thoughts were betrayed by her eyes as they darted to his lips quickly.

He arched a brow, but said nothing, silently requesting her permission. He'd been unconsciously thinking of kissing her for weeks now, and suddenly the moment was standing dead in front of him, and the thrill pumping in his veins was almost enough to make his stomach flop against itself.

A resolve settled over her features and she met his gaze, strong and resilient. "Go on, then. Rescue the Gryffindor princess from a possible infestation."

His brain whooped in triumph while his heart beat madly against his chest.

"Very well, Hermione," he whispered right before their lips touched.

Seconds later, they breathed heavily against each other, her hands fisted in his robes, his own tangled in her hair.

"I think you're, right by the way," he said, ghosting her face with his breath. "It does look better by the windows."


End file.
